Our take on cake: Short stories from the editors

Should I bake a cake? I have all the ingredients eggs and flour and baking power and vanilla extract and cocoa but maybe I should make it healthy then I’ll need some avocado but who puts avocado inside a cake that makes no sense but then I can eat some except it won’t taste as good so maybe I’ll make it pretty and take a photo and share the picture somewhere then I won’t eat any except for just one lick off my finger oh who am I kidding I’ll eat the whole damn thing and even lick the crumbs off the platter then feel sick and stupid and silly except you know maybe cake isn’t the way to go maybe I should cook something like salmon or asparagus and oysters ew oysters that’s more impressive like all the yelling manly cooks I could be tough like them instead of this frilly apron thing but baking is harder than it looks you have to measure things there’s more math involved and some chemistry you can’t just toss a bunch of randoms in a pan and call it a day except I’m still not sure maybe I should just leave the kitchen and parade a sign outside that says something cool and smart but all I want right now is something sweet and lovely like a cake and how nice that I want to make it and not buy it I’ll spend more time but spend less money or would it make a difference if there was something clever written on the cake or what if I made cupcakes that looked like little cu- also who makes just one cake only for themselves that can’t be good should I make it for my mom or dad or boyfriend but there’s no birthdays coming up so can’t I make one just for fun is that so wrong it’s pleasurable and personal and yes I’ll be the one to decide just for one evening I want to wear this thing with the pink polka dot print and bake a cake and make it baby blue with a few drops of food colouring the batter gosh who knew this question was so hard.

Cooper Long
Assistant ANDY Editor

She looked at him across the crowded bakery kitchen. Through a tangle of pots hanging from the ceiling and several racks of cooling cakes, she could see him standing next to the refrigerator. He was illuminated by the reflections from its stainless steel doors, and seemingly oblivious to her persistent stare.

She thought back to the first time they had met. It had been a frantic day one month ago. A rush order for a six-tiered wedding cake with fondant butterflies had come in, and so white-aproned figures were scrambling all around. Amid this commotion, they two had accidentally collided. They had both worked in the kitchen for a while, but for some reason they had never come into contact until then.

It wasn’t just a superficial bond that they shared in that moment. She could feel that they had a powerful, almost elemental compatibility. They had both bubbled with the giddy excitement of meeting someone you truly connect with.

They eventually returned to their respective stations, and since then they had not interacted once. Somehow they tended to stay on their own sides of the room. During the day, she rarely left her post next to the Hobart industrial dough mixer.

Sometimes she suspected that people in the kitchen were deliberately trying to keep the two separated. She sensed that others thought they were wrong for each other. But no one who had seen them together could deny that they had chemistry.

Suddenly, the little box of baking soda’s reverie was interrupted. A pastry chef removed her from the high shelf next to the Hobart industrial dough mixer, raised her above a bowl of dry ingredients, and shook twice.

As soon as she was returned to her proper place, her gaze immediately returned to the jug of vinegar across the kitchen. Yes, the little box thought, the next time they got together it was going to be explosive. And messy.